While I Was Out Walking One Day
by Acy Yua
Summary: Dear Diary, I was almost kidnapped by a knight in shining armour today. He called it a ‘rescue’, I called it a kidnapping...
1. Rescuing a Damsel in Distress

Dear Diary,

I was almost kidnapped by a knight in shining armour today. _He_ called it a 'rescue',_ I_ called it a kidnapping. I would have fought him except he was wearing armour and we were galloping at full tilt over the countryside. I did not want to end up with bruised fists and a broken leg. So I did what any sensible girl would have done: I screamed. I can report with satisfaction that helmets echo. When he reined in his horse, I broke free and made a run for it. Then I went where no horse and fully equipped knight can possibly follow: up a tree. It was apple, by the way – we had been cutting through Farmer Byun's orchard. The knight spent an hour trying to coax me down but after I got him full in the face with a rotten piece of fruit, he decided I wasn't worth his time. He slapped his visor down and galloped away. Ah, the curses he called down on me… I'm expecting my eleventh finger tomorrow morning. Grandmamma says he probably got the wrong directions and I have to agree with her. Oxburn is not the type of village which needs a hero.

I wonder where he is now. I certainly hope he isn't going to try this a second time. I'd never get my chores done! The worst of this is that I dread going on my errands tomorrow; the boys are going to rib me mercilessly. Then again, I could always just pellet them with apples – if I can do it to 'prince charming', I can certain do it to a few mud-mouthed idiots. One thing's for certain though, I'm carrying a weapon with me the next time I leave the house.

* * *

Author's Note: I don't know where I'm going with this - I don't even know if I _will_ be going anywhere with this. This diary entry was actually just a warm up excercise but I thought it interesting enough to post. Feel free to make suggestions about what you think should happen. I might add chapters as time goes on. (shrug) It's a no rush, no pressure,no expectations kind of work for me. I'm still hard at work on the next chapter of The Cinderella Hunt. Man, mysteries are tough to write... 


	2. Killing the Wild Boar

Dear Diary,

Another knight rode through our village today and tried to kill the Welsher's prize winning boar. The poor fellow was knocked into the mud by Mr. Welsher's pitch fork and had to be dragged out by his horse. Mrs. Welsher boxed his ears and threatened to spank him with her broom, armour and all. I wonder what on earth is going on. Reverend Quin is visiting his brother in the next town tonight and he promised to bring back any news he hears.

I pocketed my sewing scissors before I went out today although I knew it would be a poor weapon if I ever had to defend myself against a knight. Mother forbade me to take the kitchen knife saying she didn't want me sullying the utensils. Who knows how long knights go without washing their armour? (Or taking a bath themselves.) On my way to the dressmakers, I met up with Dick and Freddy and had to treat them each to a stinging cheek before they would step aside. They called me the local damsel in distress and even started composing a ballad for me. That they both stopped attending grammar school at eight is really showing. Some of the other girls are actually _looking forward_ to another visit and I was stopped by Betty and Susan who wanted to hear every word of my 'adventure' yesterday. I can't believe how ridiculous they are being.

If another tin-pot noble decides to take a ride through our fields tomorrow, I hope he takes care not to trample our crops again. Something very strange is happening to Oxburn although I can't for the life of me imagine what it is. I half expect to wake up tomorrow and find our village being attacked by a dragon. At least we'd have some use for the knights then.

* * *

Author's Note: Who knew that something written by the seat of one's pants could actually catch an audience? I'm looking for suggestions and prompts. Remember, so far, there isn't really a story behind this. These are just short low stress, warm up excercises for me to just type something. If there are inconsistencies, point them out so I can fix them. 


	3. Quest for the Sacred Rose

Dear Diary,

No dragons today but I did catch a thief. Wearing armour. Stealing flowers from my garden. I whacked him over the head with my broom. Unfortunately, he wasn't wearing a helmet so he ended up passing out onto my flower bed. My hyacinths are now crushed because of him! This is the third knight in three days – I swear we are in the midst of a plague! I didn't know what to do with my unconscious victim so I asked Grandpapa. He helped me tie the man up and throw him in the barn. We stabled his horse with Mr. White so Sir Thief couldn't escape even if he woke up without our notice. After raiding his saddlebags, we discovered he is actually Sir _Patrick_ from Littleton. We also found a letter saying in noble-gibberish that he was to search for some kind of rare flower as a present for…ale stains ruined the rest of the note.

He awoke some time mid-afternoon but the stubborn fellow wouldn't say anything – even when we threatened to leave his armour out to rust. Grandpa and I decided to leave him out in the barn – I doubt he'll murder us in our beds if he manages to escape. Mama called us in for supper before we could haul out the torture devices but I guess they can wait for tomorrow. Rats! I'm going to have to go out and feed him sometime tonight.

Reverend Quin returned today but he wasn't able to tell us much. However, it seems that other towns have been facing the same problem: tin-pot bandits bumbling about the countryside performing fifth-rate heroics. There must be some way of finding out what is going on… The mystery is going to drive me mad! Tomorrow, I intend to finish all my chores before midday then find a way to investigate what's behind this pestilence.

In the meantime, I had best go out and feed our captive. Perhaps if I threaten to give him nothing but the leftover meatloaf I could force him to talk. My sister's cooking has cowed many a stronger-willed man than him!

* * *

Author's Note: Okay, readers, I need your help. Low stress becomes high stress when you don't know what you're doing. I've reached the point where I have to have at least a rough idea of what's going on to continue. If you want anymore of this, people are going to have to send me ideas. If you don't want the whole world to know though, send it through the PM, I don't really care. I wasn't kidding when I said I don't know what's going on. I wrote where my fancy drove me and it's steered me into a ditch. 


	4. A Little Background Info

((Continuation of previous entry – after the feeding of one taste-dead knight))

My sister has a new suitor. It was just my luck that the one man I've ever tried to threaten with my sister's meatloaf absolutely adores her cooking. Although by a bizarre turn of events I got him to talk with a promise to introduce him to his 'culinary angel'.

According to Sir Patrick, our plague of knights originate from Yettle, a keep which lies three days ride from here. It's held by Lord Orborne, whose son is trying to woo a Lady Katherine. The lady is none too enamored of her suitor and has tried numerous ways of getting rid of him. When 'accidentally' tripping him, hitting him, swearing at him, drowning him (almost) and spilling a variety of liquids on him didn't put him off, she finally issued a challenge. She declared that her romantic soul would not accept anyone who couldn't accomplish all of the daring deeds on a list which she had devised (This list apparently has 89 items on it!). She chose our humble little locale for where they were to be done and our ardent suitor then sent his knights out to do the deeds.

I've already deduced the first three of the tasks:

1. Rescue a damsel in distress

2. Kill a ferocious boar

3.Search for a rare flower

After bribing him with my dessert (and it certainly wasn't a sacrifice), he told me that the next task involves a fire-breathing dragon. I knew that had to be in there somewhere! My guess is that they'll try to catch a really big lizard or maybe a crocodile. Amusing as the thought is, these knights are a menace and they're disrupting our village life. I wasted an appeal on Sir Patrick when I asked him to try and stop all this. He said that his liege's orders came first and he wouldn't be swayed by a mere village girl. This 'mere village girl' gave him another good whack on the head with his empty platter and watched with satisfaction as he went out for the night. But as good as that felt, I know he's right. No knight is going to listen to a common girl with no standing...

However… they just might listen to a fairy. I have to talk with Rachel and Rebecca before I dare to even put my plan on paper. But I think I have an idea to save our village…

**

* * *

**Author's Note: Thank you everyone who sent in suggestions! I'll use them all! Or at least… I'll try. Your ideas are the only thing keeping this fic going. Now I need to add another plea, any suggestions for the other 85 items on the princess' list? 


	5. A Simple Plan

Dear Diary,

It's almost nightfall and that stupid knight _still_ hasn't arrived. My wings are starting to itch. Rachel and Rebecca are roasting potatoes over our fire now. It looks like mine's almost done.

We're camped out on the edge of Mr. White's property where the Mrs. Pillsbo, the biggest lizard in the county, lives. She was named after the real Mrs. Pillsbo, a crotchety old hag who terrified little children. I was among them. The poor lizard bears a remarkable resemblance to her so they named it after her. Personally, I prefer the lizard. She's only as big as my arm and won't make much of a dragon but there aren't any crocodiles near Oxburn. I am ever so thankful for that or else I would be stuck crouching in a swamp all day.

My plan is to masquerade as a woodland fairy and send the knight off questing for a magical love potion on the other side of the country. Simplistic, I know, but I find that simple solutions are often the best ones. If the fellow actually believes me, we'll have the whole band of knights gone from the area before sunrise. Surely such a lazy noble's son is going to jump at the chance of bypassing the list and having the girl fall madly in love with him right away. The knights will have to find this a better solution than running around here looking like idiots… which they will anyway, when they find out that the potion doesn't really exist but by then, that shouldn't be our problem.

I wish I had thought to bring butter for my potato…

I think I hear him coming! It's show time!

**

* * *

**Author's Note: Ah, university…my life as well as the bane of my existence. I am a busy, busy girl this year so chapters may be few and far between. Or maybe not. We shall see. As usual, suggestions are always welcome. Keep the ideas coming! 


	6. Prisoner

((Loose leaf to be added to diary upon return home…if that ever happens…))

Dear Diary,

It has been three days since I last wrote and my world has been turned upside down during that time. What was I thinking trying to dress up as a fairy? How stupid could I have been? Of course there was going to be an item on that list which involved a fairy! I should have known! I've found out, far too late, that item number 16 was that they were supposed to gain a fairy blessing and that stupid knight kidnapped me so I can bless Lord Orborne's lazy son. I've spent the last three days bound hand and foot, bouncing over the countryside on a horse's rump.

I can tell this is going to be a long entry, but what else have I to do? They've locked me up in a tower because the ardent suitor is out drinking in town. He left this morning, before I arrived slung over my captor's saddle bow like something hunted from the woods (which now that I think of it…I was). I overheard my guards say that the noble turd (my mother would take away my pen if she knew I wrote that) would be gone three days so I'm trapped for now. I don't know whether to be relieved or not. I'm angry, although most of the fight bounced out of me after the first day. Mostly, I'm scared. What will they do to me when they find out I'm not truly a fairy? Will I get tortured? Executed? I hope my parents aren't too worried right now. They'll probably kill me anyway if I ever get home alive. Me and my stupid plan.

My wings didn't survive the journey to Yettle – they dropped off after the first mile. My captor, Sir Randolph, would not believe that I wasn't a fairy even when that happened. He thought I shed my wings to trick him into letting me go. No one believes me, and I pleaded with everyone I saw when they dragged me up here. At least my prison cell is comfortable. If I was sure that I would escape unharmed I would be enjoying this. I've a room fit for royalty with a huge feather bed, fireplace, fur rug and even a writing desk. I was served a steaming hot, expensive meal just a few hours ago and was given a gold trimmed dress to replace my mud splattered frock. The only problem with all this is that I've an iron shackle around my ankle which chains me to the bed. I can't even threaten anyone with my 'magic' because everyone knows that iron binds the fey.

My room over looks the courtyard and I've spent most of my day staring out the window. It's too far down for me to escape that way even if I did manage to break my chains. My throat is sore from yelling for help. At least I got to watch my captor suffer while trying to train a pack of mangy pups. I think they were supposed to be 'werewolves' (item 23). I could hear him cursing when one of them decided to relieve itself on his boots. Served him right.

I don't know how I'm going to escape. I'm so tempted to cry but tears aren't going to get me out of here. What am I going to do?

* * *

Author's Note: Hmm... the tone of this chapter turned out a bit more serious but I think it suits what's happening. After all, how spunky would you feel after being kidnapped? It seems that a plot is materializing out of this after all. Who knew? Now...what to do next... 

Oh! Lady Katherine's List of Heroic Deeds still has 65 empty spaces left on it... any more suggestions? Almost everything mentioned in the reviews are already on the list. Keep them coming!


	7. A Damsel in Distress Again

Dear Diary,

Knights are completely unreliable.

It has occurred to me that I am actually a damsel in distress at the moment and yet, where is the knight who was trying to 'rescue' me the first time? Not where he's needed, that's for sure. I don't think I would mind it so much now. Not if I get to go home. I can't believe that I have a whole garrison of knights only a wall away from me and not one of them can even spare a ladder to come help me.

Everything seems against me at the moment. The skies are going to be cloudy tonight so I won't even have a star to wish upon. This is just not my day…or heck, let's extend it to the whole week. This all started with that first blasted knight. If I ever see him again, I'm going to do more than just pellet him with apples – I'm going to drop a whole branch on him!

* * *

Dear Diary,

Be careful what you wish for – mother wasn't jesting when she said that. I saw _him_ again, and me without my apples. I thought about dropping my chamber pot as he passed under my window but then, I wouldn't have anything to use. Also, I realized that he doesn't really deserve my chamber pot – Sir Randolph does – and I've decided to be nothing if not fair. Still, he (I must find out that knight's name) _was _the start of all my problems. If I ever get a chance for revenge, I'm definitely going to take it.

My ankle is starting to be rubbed raw by my shackle. I still don't have a plan of escape and Lord Orborne's son, Wilbur (How appropriate. One of Mr. Welsher's pigs is named that) returns tomorrow. 'Blessing' him wouldn't be that big of a problem but people are going to expect lights and sparkles and all manner of impressive tricks. I don't even have flint and straw. If they expose me for a fraud, they'll probably throw me in the dungeon. I've heard that deceiving nobility has harsh consequences… What was I thinking?

No. I must not fall into self-pity again. I have to plan….

* * *

Author's Note: Writing down her plans could be very incriminating – I can't see her doing it until after the fact. Sorry readers, but you'll have to wait for the next chapter to see what actually happens… once I dream it up of course. Don't worry she'll be out of the tower at least by the next chapter… I think… Heck, I don't know. For those who didn't notice, I finally updated The Cinderella Hunt. Enjoy! 


	8. Search for the Love Potion

Dear Diary,

There is too much mud in this world. I know because I'm wearing most of it right now. We've been traveling for a whole day and with every mile, we've been getting farther and farther away from my home. Now, I am completely lost. Even if I did manage to break away from my captors, I would probably find myself recaptured – this time by ogres who like girls slow roasted with honey and garlic sauce. After all, that's just the kind of week I've been having.

Things are getting from bad to worse. My three days of imprisonment passed without me being able to come up with a single plan. I am through with self-pity. Three days is more than enough and I've finally come to my senses again. Unfortunately, it's a little late. I was brought before Sir Wilbur (how on earth did he get a knighthood anyway?) and I gave him my 'blessing': "You will receive all you deserve." I thought it wasn't too bad. However, _he _wanted me to give him strength and courage and good-looks and… I told him I only give those blessings at christenings. Amazingly, he accepted that. Feeling confident with my success, I decided to tell him about the 'love potion'. That had to be the most stupid thing I've ever done. It didn't work the first time, I don't know why I thought it would work a second time. He believed me but now, I'm being carted all over the countryside 'lending my presence' to the quest. This is what happened last time – why didn't I learn?

I'm starting to run out of cryptic phrases. Sir Wilbur keeps asking me for clues and I've already made up loads of drivel about the stars and the moon aligning with moss on ponds and that sort of thing. Luckily, he was expecting nonsensical verse for the answers to his questions so I've managed to avoid answering anything directly. I'm starting to forget what I've said though and I can't keep this up forever.

Right now, the lot of them think that I'm composing spells on this stack of looseleaf that I grabbed from my tower room before we departed. I know that they won't peek at these sheets so I feel somewhat safe writing all this down…

I've found out the name of the first knight who tried to kidnap me – Sir Conan. He's also part of Sir Wilbur's entourage but incredibly enough, he doesn't recognize me! I certainly recognized him – I beaned him with an apple after all. I didn't know whether or not to be insulted. He's only eighteen and was just knighted. How many damsels has he tried to rescue anyway? Were there so many that he couldn't remember me? For some reason, that doesn't sound flattering.

Althea? I thought I just heard… We are nearing Althea. We've traveled that far? No wonder my bottom is sore…

Cousin Farley lives in Althea. If I can just get to her, maybe I'll have a chance of escape! Okay, that's the new plan: Cousin Farley. Now, how am I going to convince a band of knights to visit a dressmaker…

* * *

Author's Note: Nothing much to say this time. I'm in a good mood so I decided to update. This is one of those things that I can write in one sitting. Tell me what you think! All the other usual stuff applies... 

Oh, and shameless advertising: check out my new website (the 'homepage' on my profile). All my online work all at one stop for you to enjoy.


	9. Cousins are Useless

Dear Diary,

How could I have forgotten what a spineless twit Cousin Farley was? "Oh, I can't. I simply can't." No wonder she's a spinster. She barely listened! As soon as she heard that I was being held by a nobleman, she tried to brush me off. Then Sir Conan shows up in the back of the shop, so I didn't get another chance to talk to her.

Speaking of Sir Conan that man is a nuisance – and he's also been appointed as my official guard. He was none too happy about accompanying me to the dressmakers, not seeing the need, but after I shook my iron shackles at him, he relented. I'm a mess at the moment; so much so that even _he_ thought I needed a new dress. Although, I don't know how he thought I was going to put it on with my hands chained together.

At the very least, Cousin Farley gave me a shawl for my troubles and wished me luck on my escape. The first I accepted, the second isn't worth much. She also promised to notify my parents, which is a load off my mind. Mother must be beside herself with worry.

Sir Wilbur has gotten sidetracked by the local entertainment – the gambling, the taverns and the ladies of ill repute. I don't know whether or not to be grateful (which is becoming a familiar emotion to me). At least we're not tramping over the countryside and I've finally gotten a chance to wash myself…somewhat.

We've secured rooms at the Dripping Wine Cask. As inns go, it's relatively clean and the innkeeper's wife, though a husky, intimidating looking woman, seems nice enough. It was downright hard trying to hide my shackles from her. I can't imagine what she must think of me since I refused to remove my cloak even when our company was seated around the fire. I've been given my own room – which I am ever so thankful for. What on earth would I tell my mother if I'd had to share a room with Sir Conan? It doesn't bare thinking about.

I think it's safe to say that for the next few days, I'm going to have some free time. Althea is a big town and, I might as well explore. I have a feeling that Sir Wilbur will find ways to keep himself busy for quite some time. Lady Katherine seems to fall a far second behind tavern wenches.

What I need is an apothecary. If I can actually _find_ a love potion, (or at least something that will serve as one) that might be my way out of this mess. Sir Conan is at least good for something. I certainly would not like to wander through this city without protection. Even if he isn't much of a knight in shining armour.

Dinner is going to be served soon; I can hear the crowds below stairs. Maybe I'll finally get a decent meal – the knights cook about as well as my sister. I had best get going before Sir Conan gets sent to escort me.

* * *

Dear Diary,

I threw an apple at Sir Conan today. He recognizes me. I've escaped to my room but I– ((a scrawl caused by a quill skittering off the page…))

* * *

Author's Note: How about a little tension? Diary entries make it very hard to build suspense... Let's pick up the pace a little too. Hmm... a little romance needed...maybe Sir Conan? Or a new character... So many choices, so little cast... 


	10. Found: A Love Potion, I think

Dear Diary,

Night has fallen, but so much has happened today that I know I shall not sleep until I write it down. I'll probably might get raked over the coals tomorrow for the burning my candle to the stub, but I'm sure Sir Wilbur can well afford it.

Sir Conan knows who I am.

We were eating breakfast – a slightly burnt porridge – down in the common room. I don't know what kind of night he had, but he snapped at me to pass him an apple – as if I was a serving wench! If he had asked politely, I might not have lost my temper. (I had a rough night too. I swear there are mice in these walls…) I pitched the apple to him across the table and caught him full in the face. He's such a lousy catch! Thinking back, his look of surprise when the truth (after the apple) struck him was rather funny. Not at the time though. He was speechless, and I used that chance to dash up to my room. When he didn't come immediately after me, I thought I was safe, which is why I started my earlier entry. Two lines in, and the door of my room burst open. I nearly fainted with fright.

"You're no fairy!" he had announced, "You're that girl from the village!"

At least I had the presence of mind to shut the door behind him. I was shaking in my stockings as I turned to face him, but seeing his anger, the exact same expression as the first time we met, I got mad. Anger does wonders to banish fear.

"And you're no knight," I replied, "You're that kidnapper from the village."

For spur of the moment, I think that was rather good – I got the parallelism. It was one of the few times that I've actually managed to come up with a clever rejoinder right when I need it.

We got into a shouting match and soon, I found out that he hadn't told anyone about his failure to 'rescue' a damsel. I have now become a blackmailer – oh, how my mother would despair of me. More accurately though, we've come to an agreement; my true identity will be kept a secret since it would be of no help to either of us if the truth was found out. We clasped hands in a pact and that was it. Sort of anticlimactic really.

We're a wary team now, he doesn't want to go on a pointless quest any more than I do. He agreed to accompany me to the apothecary to see if there was something we could use as a love potion. Perhaps we can stage something. I tried to convince him to take me to the blacksmith first but he wasn't that obliging. I think that after being hit twice by me, a mere village girl, his manly ego likes to see me in chains.

We wandered around town for a while, trying to find the apothecary. I will admit that he isn't _that_ bad of a companion now that I don't have to be constantly watching my back. Also, he may not be much of a knight but that sword at his belt certainly helps a girl feel safe. People have been giving that sword and us wary glances and wide berth.

We found the shop around midday – it smelled like my cellar. After I gave him my request, the shopkeeper leveled a funny look at me. Asking for love potions cannot be _that _unusual a request. At least I knew they don't _really _exist. But he didn't say anything. He scanned the shelves then plucked a suspicious looking bottle near the bottom. When he handed it to me, he had a smirk on his face. "Not a love potion, but it will do." I got Sir Conan to pay (it wasn't as if I had any money) and he wasn't too happy about shelling out three coppers for the bottle.

It's sitting on my bedside table right now. I have no idea what this is. I would have asked but the shopkeeper disappeared into the back for luncheon without answering me. Perhaps I should test it on someone… I would pick Sir Conan but with my luck, it'll make him 'fall in love' with me. Maybe I'll drop it into the drink of one of the other knights. The gruff Sir Walter looks like he needs a little romance. I don't think his face can accommodate an expression other than a scowl. It should liven up my trip.

My candle is starting to gutter. The other things in my day don't seem as important now that I'm feeling sleepy. Ah, time to call it a night.

* * *

Author's Note: My longest chapter yet...but that's not saying much. When I finish this (and yes, it is a _when_) I'm going to stick a few chapters together. Having the description say 85 chapters might be a bit daunting for the new reader. Is that a hint, you say, am I going to have 85 chapters? No, I doubt I could sustain this for that long. How much longer will this be? I have no idea. As I said at the beginning, I'm making this up on a chapter by chapter basis. It's like a real diary - you have no idea what's going to happen tomorrow. This is an exercise in writing on the fly. I'm going to have to find some way to twist the plot back to fulfilling that list. But how... 


	11. To Stage a Quest

Dear Diary,

A knight and a tavern wench – a match made in an ale glass. The potion certainly does _something_ and it certainly is potent. Sir Walter hasn't stopped smiling at the buxom Betty since I tipped a few drops into his drink last night. I nearly gave the game away when I saw the look of horror on Sir Conan's face as Sir Walter grinned at him and asked whether or not he thought Betty was a beauty. In the nicest terms possible, the tavern wench has a homely face. A less generous person would say that she's a raisin bun with a lush figure. Sir Conan shot a look at me, and I gave him my most innocent smile. I don't think he bought it but I don't think I care.

My cheeks are aching right now, having spent supper trying not to laugh. The other knights have been leery around Sir Walter, wondering whether they'll catch what ever he has. I noticed that Harold, his squire, refused to eat anything that his master also ordered. At least those three coppers haven't gone to waste!

* * *

Dear Diary, 

Here's the plan:

Sir Conan hides the potion in a nearby cave.

Over night, I receive a 'vision'.

The morning after, I make up a load of drivel directing the company to the cave.

We go.

We find.

We leave.

I can't wait. I woke up this morning face to face with a mouse. I don't think my heart has slowed down since then. To give Sir Conan credit, he stumbled into my room, sword in hand, as soon as I screamed. He also nearly sliced me in two and has ruined my bed sheets.

We're going cave hunting this afternoon. Surely the locals must have something suitably old and mysterious. Cursed would be even better. Once Sir Conan finishes his breakfast, we're off!

* * *

Author's Note: Okay, so this was short. I know it. Accept it for now. I promise that the next chapter will be a minimum of 3000 words long...and heck, let's make it due by January 31 while we're at it. Whoa...that'll be something to pull off... 


	12. Things Are Looking Up

Dear Diary,

We did it! After so many failures it's extremely satisfying to have a plan that finally _finally_ worked! Yesterday, we found the perfect cave – deep in the middle of the forest and legend has it to be haunted by a pair of star-crossed lovers. We made a little circle of stones near the back of the cave and placed the bottle in the middle. I had wanted to etch something cryptic and terribly romantic on the wall but it was nearing dinner. I couldn't think of anything and Sir 'Chivalrous' was also slow in the poetry arena today. I settled for scratching _potio amoris _(love potion) on the wall. Somehow, inscriptions just seem more believable in Latin. Who could have guessed that Sir Conan actually has some proficiency in that language?

Today was spent wandering the forest. The woods are quite lovely here. Majestic trees, twittering songbirds, cool shade: all in all, quite a peaceful outing despite the fact that I was on the edge of my saddle for most of it, hoping that my plan would work. My sore rump was my second biggest worry. I haven't been on a horse in days after all.

Thankfully, he found the cave before nightfall, though it _was_ after much wandering. When he got the potion, he kissed my hand much to my dismay. Betty and Susan would probably have found it terribly romantic but having a half-drunken lord's son slobber over the back of your hand is anything but so. I'm certainly glad he didn't aim for my lips or I would have had to curse him. That his lips would fall off maybe? _That_ would be a gruesome sight.

Tomorrow we head back to Yettle. I have roughly three days to plan my escape. Once I reach lands that I recognize, perhaps I'll be able to persuade Sir Conan to release me. I would have to borrow a horse though so I had best catch him while he's in a _really_ good mood. But it seems my luck may be changing – returning home may not be that impossible after all.

* * *

Dear Diary, 

Sir Walter woke up this morning covered in spots and retching. This cannot be a good sign. I want to believe he is ill because of the suspicious looking potatoes we ate yesterday at the Boar's Head inn, but no one else has fallen ill. This can't be because of the potion …can it? It's been a few days since he drank it and I certainly haven't given him anymore since that night. The effects of the liquor seemed very short-lived. His lovesick expressions only lasted a night and ceased by morning. Now, his expressions are only sick.

What on earth am I going to do? Is it worth stealing the potion back? No, I have to get away… But I still don't know how to get home! Darn it all!

* * *

Dear Diary, 

I am an idiot! Why didn't I think of it before? Now that the quest is over, this fairy obviously has some 'other duties' waiting for her. He can't be _that _eager to keep me with him. I could probably convince Sir Wilbur to lend me Sir Conan to escort me home. How simple is that?

No, wait…He'll probably want me on hand to bless his wedding to Lady Katherine (the poor girl). Maybe if I promise to send another fairy along? Yes, a 'wedding blessing' fairy. Would that work? It's worth a shot, I suppose…

* * *

Dear Diary, 

Life is finally going my way! I'm even starting to feel suspicious now that things are going so well. I told Sir Wilbur during supper last night, after he had just won a handful of silver from another group of traveling knights, that it was time that I returned to 'my fairy bower'. In his high mood, he seemed more than happy to grant my wish. I get to go home!

It's been a quite an adventure, but I hesitate to say that I will miss it. I was miserable, worried and scared for most of it… but at least I can say that it was _different_. Life in a village can get very repetitive and a little dull at times. Now though, it seems like the best life a girl could possibly have. I ache to be home in my safe room among people I know. I haven't known the men and boys in this band long enough to say that I will miss them. Well…maybe Sir Conan. Maybe. And Sir Walter will figure in my memories for a while as well. His romance with the barmaid deserves to be immortalized in song. Perhaps Grandpapa will help me come up with a ditty.

My candle is guttering (this inn is certainly stingy when it comes to lighting) so I had best turn in for the night. I have to leave early tomorrow after all. Sir Conan said that it's two days ride to my village from where we are now. It'll probably take us three days judging from the state of my backside. I'm not getting on a horse for another month at least after this. I used to enjoy a short ride every other day but no longer…well, for a month at least.

I get to go home! I don't think I can possibly write that enough times. Ah, I'm going to bed before I start to bore even myself.

* * *

Dear Diary, 

Our village was attacked by a fire-breathing dragon. Truly…

* * *

Author's Note: Okay, I lied. I'm not making promises like that again. But at least I made the deadline! That has to be worth _something_. 


	13. While I Was Away

Dear Diary,

Home. There's no place like it. When I stepped through the door this afternoon Mother and Father rushed to embrace me. Mother had tears streaming down her face; she was so relieved that I had returned safely. They were so grateful to Sir Conan that I didn't have the heart to tell them that he had tried to kidnap me before. Very calmly, Sir Conan explained that it had been a mistake on the part of Sir Randolph and apologized for all the grief that they had been through. At that, my mother covered her face and sobbed.

While I was gone, our village was attacked by a fire-breathing dragon. It sounds ludicrous saying that – I didn't even know that they truly existed! But they have carried off my little brother. I remember wishing so often as a child that this would happen and now that it finally had, I regret that the thought had ever crossed my mind. Whatever else I might say about him, I truly love my brother and I pray that he is safe.

The village is _not_ in ruins. Apparently, Mrs. Welsher had frightened it off with her broom after it had dared to try and steal her prized boar (yet another attempt…). Unsuccessful, it took my brother instead. Father is banding together a search party who will be scouring the countryside on the morrow. I shall be confined to my room along with my sister, who has not been allowed one step out of the house since the attack. I don't believe that we're the only family so concerned – I had wondered about the emptiness of the streets on my way home.

Sir Conan shall be spending the night with us and will be leaving at dawn. It had crossed my mind to ask for his help with my brother – as a knight, surely he was trained for such rescues – but memory of _my_ 'rescue' displaced that thought quite quickly. He is useless in that quarter.

When I flipped opened my diary this evening, the pages fell upon the first entry of my adventures, and I find it truly ironic that I had written these words: "Oxburn is not the type of village which needs a hero."

It certainly needs one now.

* * *

Author's Note: Hmm... couldn't seem to get the tone right in this one...I guess that will have to wait for the rewrite. sigh First drafts are always riddled with problems. Oh well, let's get this pounded out in writing first. Now...what next...I'm always open to suggestions! 


	14. A New Adventure

Dear Diary,

I dreamt of my brother being slow roasted with potatoes. You could say I had a restless night.

I do not know whether to be hopeful or in despair this morning. Sir Conan has decided not to rejoin his company – they've decided to join him. News of the dragon attack had spread to Yettle a few days ago and a band of knights had been dispatched just a day behind us. They entered the village shortly after dawn and set up camp around the local inn. I'm willing to bet a bushel of apples that my friends are estatic. After all, they have not been as severely disillusioned about knightly abilities as I have. Does a whole group of inept knights equal an ept one? (Is 'ept' even a word…? I think that after all my adventures, being coped up in my room is going to be tramatic for my sanity.)

I had hoped that having finally arrived home I could put me and my plans to rest but it seems that my scheming days are far from over. I just can't sit back and do nothing. He is my brother after all.

Father's search party is the second one that they've organized – the first one having disbanded due to fatigue. I suppose I could leave everything up to them like a sensible girl but as they've come up with nothing, that isn't going to help.

New plan – I'm actually shuddering as I pen these words. I have no illusions about my and my plans but I _have_ to do something. Maybe if I bring in my sister…Grandpa and Grandma… surely we'll be able to come up with something. I just need to make sure I don't get myself captured or killed…

* * *

Author's Note: I know, I know, it's a lame title for a chapter but I'm not feeling very creative at the moment. This also explains why I have no idea what's going to happen next. Yep, I don't know if the dragon is real or not, whether her brother is dead or not (well...probably not dead, that would be a little _too_ dreary) or whether Lady Katherine is now hurling her innards into a chamberpot...or not. That'll have to wait for another day. My fiction output has been rather low for the past several months and I have no idea when the drought will end. 


	15. Catching Up with Current Events

Dear Diary,

Worry is exhausting. After a day of mulling things over, I find that I'm much calmer now. I'm still concerned over my missing brother, of course, but I'm also suspicious…

Being trapped in the house all day, I've been keeping company with my sister and our grandparents. I confessed everything to my family after breakfast this morning, just before Father left. I feel really guilty about worrying them but they've forgiven me for foolish plan. Right now, they're more concerned with my brother.

Back to my brother's kidnapping (that seems to run in the family…), when I first heard about him being carried off by a dragon, I had assumed that the beast had swooped in on leathery wings, torched a few houses, then flew off with my brother clutched in its claws.

Apparently, I was wrong.

Grandpa said that the creature had sort of waddled in, in the middle of the night, torched a few houses and then tried to take off with one of Mrs. Welsher's pigs. My brother had been sleeping over at their house, since he is friends with one of their sons, and when he rushed out with the family to help protect the livestock, the dragon made off with him.

With all the events happening in our village lately, I'm starting to wonder whether that dragon was real. I would not be surprised if it turned out to be nothing more than knights in a costume. Although…it would have to be a very sophisticated costume… Might this not be another plot by Lady Katherine? Perhaps she had heard about Sir Wilbur returning with a love potion and had wanted to distract him somehow. On one hand, if this really is the case, then my brother should be fairly safe. I doubt she would order my brother's death…but then again, you never know with nobility. If she is behind this, she has a lot to answer for. Parts of the village _were _singed because of her. Though the damage was minor, it could have been much more dangerous if we had been unfortunate enough to have had a cross-breeze or something of that sort.

I want to go out with Father now and have a look about for myself but I doubt he'll let me. Perhaps I could convince Sir Conan to go with me. He might be enough so that any excursion would _appear _to be safe.

* * *

Dear Diary, 

Lady Katherine is in midst of all this – I just know it! Too bad I don't have any proof…

To thank them for helping (though I doubt they did much) Mother invited the knights over for supper. They were very talkative and I learned some very interesting things. Apparently, Lady Katherine has insisted that they capture _this_ fire-breathing dragon to satisfy item number five on the list. I had spoiled their attempt on capturing Mrs. Pillsbo last time but I personally don't feel guilty on that score since she didn't breathe fire in the first place. There are still a dozen or so things on the list not completed. I was exceptionally surprised to learn that this band of third-class heroes has actually completed _77_ things from the list! I couldn't believe they had _that_ much imagination to pull it all off – because honestly, to have literally completed all those items could not have been possible. Here are some of the things that I overheard them talk about but I (unfortunately) didn't get to witness:

9. Capture a unicorn: A poor horse was doused in white paint and a horn was glued to his forehead.

12. Bring back fruit from the tree of life: Apparently, this was why Sir Conan hadn't been questioned about his failure in rescuing a damsel in distress. After he had lost his battle against me, he had stolen several grossly misshapen apples from Farmer Byun's orchard. He then argued that since the tree which he had gotten them from had definitely been alive, the apples should count as having come from a 'tree of life'. Since he did complete a task, the other knights had nothing to say against him. I will admit (though never to him) that Sir Conan is actually a little more intelligent than I have given him credit for.

26. Kill a recreant knight: At the beginning of this farce of a wooing, one of their comrades had finally decided that Sir Wilbur wasn't worth his loyalty and was going to return to his village and farm. Before he left though, he generously allowed himself to be 'captured', tied up and brought before Lady Katherine. They quietly let him go after that.

37. Solve the unsolvable riddle: Being all men, the knights unanimously decided that the most unsolvable riddle in the world was what a woman was thinking when she was annoyed with a man but wouldn't tell him why. They finally decided that all women in that circumstance must be thinking that 'men were idiots' (many of the knights had certainly heard that being muttered of them by their wives or sweethearts). They brought that answer before Lady Katherine and she had agreed.

That's about all I can remember.

Tomorrow, I shall be scouring the countryside along side my Father. My parents are getting more worried with each passing day. Since the dragon hasn't made another appearance, they have decided that it's more urgent to find my brother first. As long as we travel in groups, we should be safe enough. I have a strange feeling though, that my brother isn't in much danger at the moment. Something is going on. It's far too coincidental that our quiet little village has suddenly gained this influx of romantic and heroic…elements (for lack of a better word). Everything must be connected. What I need to figure out is how…

* * *

Author's Note: Why is it that whenever you're busy and have the least time to write that you feel the most inspired to write? Ah...one of life's mysteries. This chapter was a bit longer to make up for the pointlessness of the last one. 

You know, I just noticed that her chains miraculously disappeared without any explanation several chapters ago. Hmm…plot hole, anyone? I don't feel like going back and explaining it. Just take it in stride – I'll fix it in the rewrite.

Also, a few readers keep asking me what my heroine's name is. She actually has no name, not even just in my mind. Right now, I plan on writing this whole thing without ever giving her a name. If you really want one, you can make one up yourself, I don't mind. But officially, she's nameless.


	16. Another Mark on the Trail

Dear Diary,

I'm starting to rethink my theory that the dragon was a ruse. On our search today, we discovered an enormous pile of droppings west of the village, near the foot of the hills. Either it was made by one remarkably large animal or a herd of animals which have been exceptionally neat about doing their business. The shape and smell of the dung certainly isn't anything we're familiar with (and being farmers, we are _very_ familiar with droppings of many varieties). I almost burst out laughing at the appalled expressions of the knights when Mr. Welsher picked up some with his bare hand and sniffed it for examination. When he held it out to the knights to ask their opinion, I almost cried from holding in my laughter. To a man, they looked horrified. I guess with squires its been awhile since they did the dirty work involved with tending their own horses.

Speaking of horses, our search ended before dark only because of a fight which erupted between Mr. Hetterman and Sir Logan, both of whom were part of our band. We were passing through Mr. Hetterman's land when we saw one of his horses had wandered to the stream on the edge of his land and was drinking (he had just put them all out to pasture this morning). Sir Logan suddenly cried "Riverhorse!" then took off after the animal. He 'captured' it with very little effort (it was a very old horse and among the most gentle of Mr. Hetterman's entire herd), then he proceeded to declare that it was now the property of Sir Wilbur (item 42, or something). Mr. Hetterman was less than pleased and they ended up arguing. My father and Sir Conan had to physically hold them apart when they almost resorted to fists over whether the strip of water running alongside the field qualified as a river. My father decided that empty stomachs and tired legs were the source of the problem and sent everyone home.

Even more knights arrived this evening, overflowing our poor inn. Well, perhaps not so poor since business has likely never been better for the Pentersons. Unfortunately, this turn of events has prodded Mother to offer Sir Conan the hospitality of our own house to replace the room he was kicked out of at the inn. Even as I write, he is now sleeping in the room beside me – my brother's room. At least he snores softer than my father and grandparents so it shouldn't be any more difficult to sleep. Hmm… I should probably go to bed now before my parents turn in for the night. After our exhausting day, I have a feeling that our house is going to sound very…musical…tonight.

* * *

Author's Note: Okay, I'm probably breaking a rule but I think I'll risk it just this once. As my readers, I'm giving you the chance to make a momentous decision. In your reviews or when you PM me (after all, this is not a ploy for increasing my review numbers) I need you to answer one question: Should the dragon be real? If it is, that means that magic does exist in this world. If it isn't, magic will not exist. At the moment, I'm not certain what to make it – I keep fluctuating between the two. Depending on the results of this poll, the story could be taking two very different turns. The deadline for votes is August 25th. The next chapter will be up by August 31. So dear readers, what's it to be? 


	17. Night Musings

Author's Note: The votes are in and the winner is... well, there's no use giving things away prematurely is there?

* * *

Dear Diary,

I can't sleep.

The walls of our house are shaking.

It's clear from their snoring that the search has thoroughly tired out my family. Even my sister, who normally sleeps in complete silence, is emitting little snorting noises. I could sleep on the floor, I suppose, so that she isn't snoring in my ear but it is too cold. Maybe if I sit here writing for a while I'll feel sleepy enough to go to bed despite all the noise.

There is a reason that humans are meant to sleep at night. If we didn't, we would be overwhelmed by dark thoughts when troubles come. Usually, I find night time very peaceful – the stars are lovely from my window. But tonight, I want to cry. I don't know where my brother is and I haven't been of any help with the search. I feel so useless. At times like these, I would like to sneak outside and lie on top of the hill just to enjoy the silence. The breeze would blow my worries away. I've done just that many times before but with a dragon on the prowl these days, it would be extremely foolish to go out on my own.

Is that a light in the distance? There shouldn't be one there. Who would be near Mrs. Pilsbo's (the lizard) cave at this time of night? It couldn't be the dragon that we're searching for, could it? No, dragons don't need to build a fire and that steady light is definitely from a camp fire. Hmm…maybe more knights have just arrived. Yes, thinking on it that seems the most likely explanation. I should probably go to bed now before my imagination gets the better of me.

Yet, I can't shake the feeling that that light needs investigating. Should I wake Father? I would feel very guilty if it turned out to be nothing more than reinforcements though. My parents haven't had a good night sleep since my brother disappeared. However…I feel absolutely no remorse in waking Sir Conan up. Knights should always be prepared to go into battle at a moment's notice, aren't they? He's already been a part of more than one of my embarrassing plans - what's another if it turns out that my suspicions are unfounded?

The last time I went out to Mrs. Pilsbo, I got kidnapped. This time, I'm going to be better prepared for things going awry. I had best pack…

* * *

Author's Note: Thank you everyone who vote! This chapter is a little late due to unforseen circumstances which you likely don't care to know what they were specifically. I started a new story of those of you who didn't notice: Maid Maleen. It's going to be a lot different from this story but I still hope you all enjoy it. 


	18. Dragon Hunting

Dear Diary,

What do you call four grown men huddled in a cave who are mixing the dung from a number of different animals and shaping it into strange forms (if dung could be said to have a _normal_ form)? The answer: disgusting.

That giant pile of droppings we found the other day was apparently the handiwork (eww…picking it up is one thing, sculpting it is another) of four knights. Yes, that's right – knights. We just got another shipment.

These fellows, from what I saw, are about as loyal to their liege as they come. They would have to be to be molding dung in the middle of the night. Sir Conan recognized the men's coat of arms. They are from Peorthe, home of Lady Katherine. I was right – she is behind all of this. We overheard the knights talking…well complaining would be more accurate. Their prides where struggling to come to terms with what they had been reduced to doing. However, I saw no sign of either my brother or the 'dragon' even though I am certain that they took him. I don't know whether or not to breathe a sigh of relief. My brother is probably safe but we still don't know where he is, what they did with him and most of all, why they took him.

We didn't learn much from the men but we found out that Sir Wilbur did present the potion to Lady Katherine. With the entire entourage from Yettle looking on, she had no choice but to drink it. The potion had the same effect on her as it did on Sir Walter – without the infatuation part though. She went straight to be sick. Right now, I'm inclined to think she deserved it. If she hadn't kidnapped my brother, she would have had my sympathies but my current opinion is that she earned every one of those spots on her pretty face. I am heartily sick and tired of this game. I was not amused by it when Sir Conan first tried to kidnap me, and I'm certainly not happy with it now with my family in an uproar.

After listening for a while, Sir Conan and I decided to go back and get the other knights so that we could stage an ambush. Correction: so _they_ could stage an ambush. Why I'm sitting in my room at the moment and not sneaking along side Sir Conan is all because of him. He said he wanted me out of the way. Normally, I would have protested but I saw genuine concern in his eyes which countered my anger roused by his tone of voice. I think he actually was afraid that I would get hurt. He admitted that he wasn't familiar with any of the knights from Peorthe so he was not certain how they would react. That bit of chivalry surprised me so much, I complied. Or maybe, the lack of sleep is just making me delusional.

I might as well go to bed. Sitting up, waiting for their return isn't going to do anything but deprive me of rest. I'm going to need all the strength I can get if (and that's a big if) they manage to capture those knights. I've got four grown men to torture in the morning.

* * *

Author Note: I think I better start wrapping up. I'm losing steam. There will be several more chapters, of course, since ending it in another 500 words will be far too abrupt. However, I hope that this story won't stretch out much longer.

Question to all of you: Is there anyone or anything you would like to know more about? That you want me to bring up again? Speak up, or else, there's always the chance that I may leave some events just hanging by the end of this. Is that a threat? No. It's just that the method of writing which I adopted for this story (write on a whim by whim basis, hardly looking back, and looking ahead only as far as the next chapter) makes it easy for me to forget to tie up loose ends. Tell me what you want!


	19. Dragon Captured

Dear Diary,

When was the last time I felt this happy? It must have been a week at least. The Yettle knights successfully captured all four of the knights from Peorthe. But since they outnumbered the Peorthe knight three to one, I'm really not that impressed. That does not mean I'm not grateful though.

The Yettle knights rode back to our house in a grand procession, their captives slung over their saddlebows. I suspect knights are rather fond of pomp and circumstance. I went out to greet them as soon as I heard them thundering down the road. They dumped the four knights in our barn. My entire family came rushing out, still in their nightclothes. I will never forget the look on Mother's face when I explained who the captured knights were. She grabbed the broom beside the door and wielded it most menacingly at them, demanding to know where my brother was. I noticed Sir Patrick stepped back a pace.

It was fairly difficult prying the truth out of the Peorthe knights. I tried to threaten them with my sister's meatloaf but it didn't work this time. None of them were frightened (although I shouldn't be surprised if they have the stomach to sculpt dung in the middle of the night) and none of them fell in love the cooking either (that I was even less surprised at – there are only so many Sir Patricks in the world). We tortured them for a good portion of the morning. It took while but we wore them down in the end, though I'm not sure whether it was Grandpa's storytelling or Grandma's singing that broke them. It was a knight with a furry mustache who squealed first.

My brother's kidnapping had apparently been accidental. On the night of the 'dragon attack' the Peorthe knights had rode into the village with an enormous dragon-like covering over them. During the battle of Welsher's farm, my brother ripped their costume and unfortunately, got a good look at them. Because they couldn't let their secret out, they captured my brother and took him with them. Not knowing what to do with him after that, they decided to send him off to Peorthe until this whole affair was over. My mother burst into a flood of relieved tears to hear that.

My father set out this afternoon with the entire company of knights to fetch my brother back. Our village has returned to normal.

It feels strange now. After all the excitement of the past few weeks, I feel a little at loose ends, not sure of what to do with myself. Life may not be exciting now but it certainly is a far sight safer. The question is though, do I want it to be…?

* * *

Author's Note: I was tempted for a moment to throw in one more twist but finally decided against it. This story has run it's course and it's time to tie off the loose ends. You're all in luck since I was suddenly inspired and managed to crank out three chapters in one sitting. The ending is up. Read on! 


	20. Lady Katherine's Romance

Dear Diary,

My father returned with my brother this morning amidst the cheers and happy tears of the family. Mother invited the neighbours over for supper, a spontaneous celebration for the prodigal son (my sister and I ribbed him mercilessly about the parallels – including the pigs).

Father also brought back the latest news concerning Lady Katherine's wooing. Apparently, my 'love potion' did what all of Lady Katherine's efforts did not – it got rid of Sir Wilbur. Maybe I do have some fairy magic in me. After seeing Lady Katherine pale, retching and covered in spots, Sir Wilbur began to have doubts about his courtship. I suspected from the beginning that lecherous drunk was only attracted to Lady Katherine because of her looks and it seems that I was right ('tis a wonderful feeling. I want to say 'hah!' to someone). When it was suggested that the spots may leave scars, he called all his knights off their quests. When someone hinted that the condition might be contagious, he left Peorthe that very day.

And so, there is a happy ending to all of this. Lady Katherine is free and our village is safe. Sir Patrick came back with Father and has been a constant visitor at our house. I have a feeling that our village is never going to be completely free of knights again. I also sense that I might have my own room come spring.

I've resettled into my former role as a 'mere village girl' as Sir Patrick once put it. I think I shall give up my journaling – after the exhilarating entries of the past month or so, recording normal village life will hardly seem worth the paper and ink.

I wonder how Sir Conan is doing? I will admit that I rather miss him. It's because of him that I've become so very popular with the neighbourhood girls. They are all in an alt over the fact that I am acquainted with a knight. The admiration will wear thin though when they realize that he and I are not going to continue communication.

I guess that's the end of my tale. I cannot imagine anything else happening now. This adventure has been one of those things which probably only occur once in person's lifetime – if ever.

* * *

Author Note: I was thinking of leaving things here but it didn't feel complete. Therefore, I added an epilogue of sorts. One last chapter to go! 


	21. Back to the Beginning

((A few months later…))

Dear Diary,

I was rescued by a knight today. This time though, he was not in shining armour – he got smarter. I was up one of Farmer Byun's trees picking apples when I heard the sound of an approaching rider. When I turned to see who it was, the branch beneath me snapped. I screamed…and fell right into Sir Conan's arms.

His expression was one of annoyance. "Why is it that you are always tossing apples at my head?"

It took me a moment to catch my breath but as soon as I got it, I started laughing. I clearly remember thinking once that I would drop a whole branch on him if I ever saw him again.

When I subsided into giggles, I thanked him. Then it struck me that he had actually rescued a damsel in distress for real – me.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, after an awkward moment.

I swear I saw his lips twitch when he replied, "Kidnapping you."

I have no idea whether he really would have ridden off with me if Father hadn't arrived. After seeing Sir Conan's 'daring deed', Father invited him to supper.

When we returned to the house, Sir Conan and I caught up on each other's activities over the past few months though for me, there wasn't much to tell. Sir Conan, however, is on another quest. It seems that Sir Wilbur has set his sights on another Lady who doesn't want him. This time, a Lady Cassandra and _she_ has a list of romantic deeds which need to be fulfilled before she will wed. After having sung off-key ballads and recited badly written poetry for a month, the Yettle knights couldn't stand it any more and told Sir Conan to go search for the fairy who helped rid Sir Wilbur of his infatuation the first time.

I guess that my fairy tale is far from over…

_**The End**_

* * *

Final Author's Note: Thank you all for reading. Looking back, I'm rather surprised (and not a little disconcerted) that this write-by-the-seat-of-my-pants fic became so popular. No planning and minimal editting actually yielded a coherent story - I don't think I'll ever cease to be amazed by that. Sort of a Nanowrimo style of writing except done over the course of a year. I don't know if I'll ever do this again - I hadn't planned on doing this in the first place. Now is where all of you who reviewed can pat yourselves on the back for all the ideas you threw at me. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to fit them all into the story but I did the best I could. I would never have made it this far without you. 

Now that we're all done, I would like to hear all your thoughts on this story. How has it been?

If you're wondering whether I'm ever going to do a rewrite to fill in those plot holes and flesh out those characters, the answer is: I don't know. When I typed 'The End' I was seized with the urge to go back and edit everything but common sense prevailed - now is not the time. I need to let this story cool. As for a sequel...no. That's not going to happen. I'm not a big fan of sequels - connected/related stories, yes; series, yes; sequels, no.

Now is the time for something new...


End file.
